The Good, The Bad And The Beagle
by SilverDragon67
Summary: Ian meets Snoopy......(finished)


**Title: **The Good, The Bad and the Beagle

**Author: **Silversabine****

**Rating: **PG ****

**Summary: **Ian meets Snoopy...

**Diclaimer: **....Witchblade belongs to Top Cow or TNT or both....

**Spoilers: **nope....

**Author's Note: **I hope, that two stories are allowed in this contest? This little story just fell into my head a few days ago.... so I had to post it as well. Please read and enjoy!

The Good, The Bad and the Beagle

"Ian!!! I want the results! And I want them NOW!"

Uh-oh! Ian knew his master's moods and knew he was in trouble now. He should have brought the test-results as fast as possible....but he was scared. Ian knew what this scientific program meant to his master, for Mr Irons had waited long enough for this day to arrive. Mr Irons loved to play god, he really loved to fool around with nature. Take a little piece of DNA here, another piece of DNA there, mix it thoroughly, heat it up, cool it down and then let it grow and see what happens!! What a funny game....

Ian's special abilities were created by such a DNA-cook, something Mr Irons loved to tell Ian again and again.

Mr Irons was proud of Ian - what a wonderful servant! Lethal, loyal, obedient, intelligent, handsome... Yes, Ian was perfect.

But still, wasn't there the ability to create another perfect creature? A different perfection?

Yes, years ago, Mr Irons had started to play god again, wanting to create the perfect animal. Strong, lethal, obedient and intelligent. A dog would fit perfectly into Mr Irons' plans for the future.

And today was the special day: the first dog was outside, being tested in multiple ways. Mr Irons had given Ian a sheet of paper where he had written down all the things he wanted the dog to learn in one day.

With a heavy sigh Ian grabbed the sheet of paper and started to walk to the library, where he knew his master waited impatiently for him to arrive.

"Mr Irons, I am sorry, there was a delay..." Ian started to explain but was cut short by his master.

"Yes, yes, yes, I don't care for your drivel. Tell me about the dog! Did he pass the test?" Mr Irons stared at Ian like an impatient child waiting for Santa to arrive.

"...ahmm.....Well.....yes...he is intelligent..."

"Ian, is there anything I should know?" If looks could kill, Ian would be dead by now.

"He is....different..."

"Do not upset me, Ian!!! I want to hear EVERYTHING!  NOW!!!!" Mr Irons' self-control had vanished.

Ian knew the situation could actually start to be dangerous for him after a quick glimpse into his master's face. Mr Irons face was as red as it would be after 24 hours of constant sunbathing in the Californian sun ... and then there was this pulsating vein at his left temple, as well.

Bad signs, better to get it over with at once.

"Mr Irons, the dog had his own mind. It seemed as if he were actually laughing at me! When I arrived at his kennel, he was....ahm...sitting on his hut. And he was wearing ....well..... I mean....it looked like a scarf...and a leather flightcap with goggles, and the hut had bullet-holes in it! Many of them!! And I could HEAR his thoughts!! He called himself the Flyer-Ace of World War I...and he cursed the Red Baron."

"Ian, are you drunk?" Mr Irons' voice was like ice.

"No, sir! Really, that dog is....different!" Ian knew it would be hard to explain. And that wasn't all. Yet.

"So, our dog is a pilot with knowledge of history. What else can you tell?" Mr Irons did not know what to think of this weird story. Postponing a decision until later, he waited impatiently to hear the rest about his genetically-enhanced dog-shaped weapon.

"Well...."

"Go on,  Ian..." Mr Irons' voice was threatening.

"He...I mean the dog entered his kennel and actually changed his....its clothes!!! He came back dressed as a soldier of the Foreign Legion. He asked whether I had seen his men and whether knew where to find Fort Zinderneuf. And then he called me Charlie!" Ian's voice now had a sligthly insulted tone.

"Maybe I should call Dr Immo...." Mr Irons was now looking worriedly at Ian.

"Sir, he changed his clothes again and again!!! He came out as a lawyer!!! And as a Tennis player!!!! And then he behaved like a vulture..." Ian's voice rose as he went down the list of the dog's strange behavior. He was long past calm, and even excited; he was nearly freaking out at the thought of the dog's bizarre actions.

Mr Irons' voice was like honey and his smile was as persuasive as possible while he gently took Ian by his arm and pulled him over to the big armchair standing next to the fireplace. "Ian, my dear son, come over here and sit down a little. I know, I put you in a lot of stress, but it is no problem. No problem at all...just sit down and take a little rest."

"Dr Immo, we have an emergency!"

"No, Sir! I'm not malfunctioning! And I am not lying either. It would be best to come and see it with your own eyes!!" Ian was already up, heading for the door.

His behavior was so totally out of character that finally Mr Irons' curiousity won, and he quickly followed Ian out of the room

At the kennel both men stared bemused at the dog lying on top of the roof of the hut. How could he do that? How could he balance on such a thin gable? And what kind of a dog was he anyway?

'I'm a beagle'

"What?? Who said that?" Mr Irons turned around to see who was talking to him. But he only saw Ian.

'Me. I am a BEAGLE!' It seemed as if the dog were staring at Mr Irons. 'My name is Snoopy.'

"...."

Never in his whole life had Ian seen Mr Irons speechless. Today was a first.

"The dog....Ian.....the dog can talk!!!"

"Yes, Sir. Like I told you." Ian could not fully suppress the satisfied sound in his voice, but Mr Irons didn't notice as his mind was too busy whirling around all the possibilities! He had created a talking intelligent animal! He had actually filled the link between animal and man! The next Nobel-prize would be his, just imagine what immense possibilities were now open for them! He could develop spy-birds or bodyguard-dogs. A dog as a companion for the blind who would be able to read them the newspaper!

"Sir??"

"Ian!! That is wonderful!!! Perfect!!! Fantastic!!!!" Mr Irons actually started to jump around Ian like a little boy around the Christmas-tree. Maybe the idea to get Dr Immo wasn't too bad....

"Ian, there is a lot of work waiting for me now!!! Take special care of the dog, he is priceless!!! My Precious....Snoopy" with a proud smile Mr Irons tossed a last glance at the dog, before nearly running back to his office.

Maybe, maybe he should have turned around for one last look at the kennel and especially at Ian.

Ian was grinning from one ear to the other....before entering the kennel to remove a small technical gadget and the thin lucent device the dog was sitting on. He then took a small transmitter out of his pocket and started to speak: "Hello, Mr Bowman. Thank you for the show, it worked out perfectly. I think Mr Irons will not play with life again for a while. Please give my thanks to Detective Pezzini as well!"

"Hello, Mr Notti....... "

"...gimme that thing, Gabe......Hello, Ian"

"Hello, Sara. Thank you for your help, I really appreciate that."

"Hey, Ian, no problem! You know I always wanted to get one over on Kenny! I will never allow him to torture helpless creatures. And it was FUN! But, Ian?"

"Yes, Sara?"

"What are you going to do if he finds out? He's gonna kill you for that joke, you know that." Sara was concerned. Over the days of planning, she had actually started to see Ian as a friend. Until two days ago, that had seemed a distant possibility at best. Then she had seen Ian walking with his dog, looking so sad that Sara started to talk to him, almost against her will. She learned many things from that conversation... things about Mr Irons' plans, things about Ian, and even things about herself. It was from learning about his plans that she came up with this plan to twit Mr Irons..

"Sara, this fun was worth it. And....we are not enemies anymore. Goodbye, Sara!"

"Goodbye, Ian Nottingham. Yes, we're not enemies anymore....."


End file.
